Share Your Story

Throughout history stories of romantic meetings are chronicled and passed down through the ages.

Now it's your turn to share your story. We want to know,
So... How Did You Meet Anyway?

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Love & Appreciation At Last

I wish I had some romantic story to tell of how we met. I wish I could tell you that I knew he was the one right away and that it was love at first sight. It wasn’t like that at all. First off, we met in a bar. And I’m pretty sure I was pretty tipsy. It was Wednesday night (yea, call it my mid-week stress reliever) and my girlies and I headed to our usual Wednesday night locale at the local watering hole. I’m a happy drunk, so after throwin’ back a few beers and some shots with the girls, I was being my friendly self and saying hi to random strangers at the bar. Mr. Sushi crossed my path and I said, “hello”.Mr. Sushi: What nationality are you?
Me: White and  Filipino.
Mr. Sushi: Me too!!
Me: No way! Here’s my phone number.
I got the traditional 2 day call back and while I’d like to say the rest is history, it wasn’t so easy. We “casually” dated for months and he would tell me he wanted to be “official”, then take it back; he also took back the first two times he told me he loved me.  Our first year was rocky. We dealt with insecurities, trust issues….we even broke up once for about 4 months. Then Mr. Sushi got into some trouble. And I was there for him. For ALL of it. This gave him a whole new respect and appreciation for me. I forgave him for the past and after time we formed a new relationship, a more fulfilling one. Two years after all the drama, our relationship now is stronger than ever.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Fields and Mountains

Kansas girl meets Colorado boy.
Within two weeks, love.
Three years later, he gets down on one knee.
She says yes…

Preface: Sophomore year, I lived in a house with seven other girls called the ‘Lady Plantation’. Our brother house, you could say, was called the ‘Mountain Dewds’ and was a couple of neighboring houses full of guys – 21 of them. Joey lived there.

For Thanksgiving, our houses got together at the Dewds’ yellow house – the one Joey lived in. I was sitting on a couch at the Dewds’ with one of the other LP roommates, Ashton. Joey walked in the room with his friend Bryce and was being loud, dropping phrases like “many leather-bound books” and “an old wooden ship” just trying to be “pretentious” and as loud as possible. I thought they seemed hilarious, and quickly noticed that Joey was pretty cute, but I minded my own business. Ashton, who knew the dewds a little better than I did, quietly told me “You definitely want to know Joey Williams and Bryce Benton – they are hilarious! They just seem so funny. You want to be their friend.” I was skeptical and said, “Oh really…? Hmmmm” – not wanting to be told who I needed or wanted to know at all.
“I’m serious!” she said.
. Fast-forward to February 8, 2008. It was Friday night and one of my friends had canceled plans on me. I had nothing to do and was somewhat moping around the house. Ashton was going over to the Dewds’ and invited me to come with. I was not in a very social mood, and initially declined, but eventually caved. We got there and pretty much sat in a La-Z-Boy recliner, watching a few of them play Call of Duty. I was SO bored and wanted to leave. I was telling Ashton we should leave when in walked Joey Williams.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

It's All Bob Geldof's Fault

I was living in London and looking for something to distract me from the usual sameness of life. One day I got an email from a mailing list I'd joined a few years earlier. The email invited people to join a writing group that had been set up as a vehicle to share stories about Zimbabwe. Though my parents were both born there, I'm born in South Africa, so technically I'm not Zimbabwean. The group sounded like just the kind of hobby I was looking for so I asked to join anyway. The organizers said they'd love to have me along.
The first meeting was scheduled for a date in February, at a small fringe theatre in south-east London. I went along, putting on my best 'Sally Sunshine' face, which is my alter-ego who I bring out when I'm walking into a room full of strangers. As one of the organizers, Patrick was sitting at the head of the table, looking very stern but dignified. I vowed to give him a wide berth, feeling a bit intimidated by his quiet presence!